


Brave New Life

by destihecker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Hunter Castiel, Hunter Dean, John is alive, M/M, POV Third Person, Pretty Much Everyone is Alive, also no imminent apocalypse, bobby is a retired hunter, i don't actually know if there will be graphic depictions of violence, john met bobby at a car show, just FYI, mary is alive, oh and no demon blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destihecker/pseuds/destihecker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam had grown up on Uncle Bobby's tales of monsters, creatures, ghosts. While Sam marks them up as simple fairy tales, Dean believes every word. Following an accidental run-in with a vampire, and a more pleasant run-in with the hunter Castiel, Dean finds himself beginning the life he's always dreamed of. The life of a hunter. (Against Bobby's best wishes.)</p><p>Only it isn't exactly what he thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> so i started writing this pretty much the moment the idea popped into my head. in other words no outlining/planning/etc! if it's a mess i apologize

Dean had always loved visiting Uncle Bobby in Sioux Falls.

The five-and-a-half hour car ride could be boring as all hell, but Dean’s excitement was typically enough to keep him occupied. Visiting Uncle Bobby was always an adventure. At least, it was from Dean’s perspective. The reality of the situation wasn’t exactly thrilling. Half-assed meals and sweaty summer days. The stories that Bobby recited to Dean and his brother, however, were vivid enough to create a sort of unknown world around Dean.

Uncle Bobby’s told stories of monsters, creatures, ghosts. The best part? Some were even told in first person, as if Bobby were really the one who had encountered these beings. It only heightened Dean’s belief in the tales.

Dean believed Uncle Bobby’s stories. He never told this to his surrogate uncle, though.

Dean didn’t quite know why he was so faithful in what most people would perceive as fantasy. He didn’t know why he became so absorbed in the possibility that monsters roamed the Earth. No, not even the possibility. It was definite.

It had to be.

Dean found himself growing only the slightest bit skeptical around the time he turned twelve. He still believed, he knew that much, but there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind. It told him to grow up, to think logically.

Dean opted to ignore that voice.

As Dean got older, the stories became more interactive. Uncle Bobby would show him and Sam books from his expansive collection of lore, letting them read passages that tied into his stories.

One day, when Dean was sixteen, he found himself lounging in the family room of his Lawrence home. Sam sat across from him, immersed in some novel that was almost definitely above a twelve year old's reading level. Dean was fidgeting on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

“Hey, Sammy?”

Sam looked up from his book, letting out a small sigh. “I’m at a really good part, Dean. Can it wait?”

Dean shook his head, shifting so that he was lying flat out his back with his calfs hanging off the end of the couch. “Nah,” he said. “Sorta important.”

Sam huffed, but closed his book all the same. “Okay. What is it, then?”

Dean was quiet for a moment. He had been planning this for days, and he still couldn’t believe what he was about to do.

“Well,” Dean started. “Y’know all the lore and stories Uncle Bobby throws at us?”

Sam didn’t respond immediately, as if he expected his older brother to continue. “Yes, I do. Obviously. He’s been drilling it into our heads since the day I was born.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t be so harsh,” Dean muttered, turning his head to look at Sam. He sighed as he lay witness to Sam’s “bitchface” (Sam made that face often enough, Dean decided it needed a name). “Anyway. I sorta, um, wanted to ask your opinion on something.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. Shoot.”

Dean swallowed hard. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like if all that lore, all those stories… were real?”

“Dean,” Sam said slowly, cocking an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

Dean groaned, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. “I wasn’t lookin’ forward to this conversion, trust me. It’s just…” he trailed off, biting his lip so hard he was surprised he didn’t break skin.

“I’m going to go back to my book if you don’t just tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine, fine. What I’m getting at is… I’ve always believed in all the shit Uncle Bobby tells us.”

The room goes silent. Still.

Then Sam is laughing.

“Dean, are you serious? You’ve got to be kidding with me. I mean, I get believing it before the age of eight - I sort of did - but really, Dean? You’re sixteen. That stuff isn’t real.” Sam’s laugh had faded quickly, and his tone grown serious. Concerned, even.

“Sammy…” Dean said, sighing heavily this time. “I don’t know why. I always have, and I probably always will. Believe in Uncle Bobby’s lore, I mean. Part of me… it wants to go out there and find it, y’know? Maybe even be one of the ‘hunters’ from Bobby’s stories.” Dean paused to chuckle. “I sound fuckin’ ridiculous right now, don’t I?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam said with a smile. “You sorta do.”

Dean laughed. He didn’t know why, but he laughed.

**Ten Years Later**

“Bobby, you don’t mind me headin’ down to the city? Don’t need any help with the shop?”

Dean stood just outside the older man’s bedroom. Bobby sat on the edge of his bed, pouring over a newly acquired book on wendigo lore. He looked up at the young man, who wore a small smile.

Bobby’s gaze returned to his book. “Sure. Just stay sober. I ain’t coming down to pick you up.”

Dean chuckled. “Guess I’ll just play some pool, walk around.”

“Boy, it’s the middle of the night. And you ain’t gambling.”

Dean shrugged as he turned to leave. He made his way through the house that he had lived in with Bobby since he was eighteen. The same house Dean had visited when he was a kid.

It had been difficult for Dean to leave his family. His mother, father, and Sammy. The kid was finishing up his undergraduate at Stanford now, and Dean swore he woke up every day beaming with pride.

Dean, on the other hand, had retreated to Bobby’s in lieu of college. Growing up, his dad and Bobby had taught him his fair share of information when it came to fixing cars. He and Bobby made a good team at the auto shop that they co-owned, if Dean said so himself.

He made his way out the front door, hit immediately by the cool fall air. Dean sauntered over to his car. His baby. The 1967 Chevy Impala had been a gift from his dad before he left for Bobby’s.

Dean paused outside the Impala. He hadn’t checked the trunk in a while. He should make sure everything is in order.

So he headed around to the back of the car, pulling his keys from his pocket and unlocking the rear.

Dean smiled at what he saw. Everything was definitely in order. Yet to be discovered by Bobby, who would all but certainly confiscate his… collection.

Knives - silver - accompanied a miscellany of other tools. A machete stuffed in the back, viles of holy water, a generous assortment of salt. An iron rod. There was a handmade EMF meter. Most importantly, there lay a small pistol that Dean had managed to acquire through a less than legal transaction. A leather pouch of silver bullets sat beside it.

He hadn’t thought to build his collection until two years previous, after confronting Bobby about what had been on his mind his entire life:

“Bobby, I know the stories you told me growin’ up were true.”

“What? They weren’t, ya idjit. Now get back to work.”

To say the least, that exchange didn’t blow over how Dean had hoped it would.

He threw the trunk shut and headed toward the driver’s seat.

The drive into the city wasn’t particularly long. Still, Dean spent it tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the tune of AC/DC, which he had leaking through the Impala’s speakers.

Dean managed to snatch a parking space just outside of his favourite bar. He stepped inside, taking in the familiar scent. Whiskey mixed with a unique smell, something Dean couldn’t pinpoint.

The young man spent a moment looking around. His gaze immediately drifted to the pool tables, but he remembered what Bobby had said. If he caught Dean gambling, the outcome wouldn’t be pretty. He peered over toward the bar. Maybe he could scope out a potential one night stand. Not that Bobby would be happy, but he had never explicitly said no.

It being a Friday night, the bar was filled.

Except for one stool.

Dean shrugged to himself and made his way over to the bar, taking a seat. He surveyed his surroundings. To his left sat a woman who looked barely over twenty-one. Dirty blond hair framed her round face. Dean was able to make out dark brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles.

She was definitely well-endowed.

Not wanting to stare too long, Dean quickly peered to his right, keeping his expectations low.

A man sat beside him. Dean had gotten a brief glimpse at the guy on his way over to the bar. That glimpse hadn’t exactly given Dean the most accurate gauge on the man’s appearance.

Dark, unruly hair meshed with tanned skin. He wore a heavy tan trenchcoat, which Dean was sure didn’t do his body any justice. His eyes - shit, his eyes. They were a deep blue. They-

“Is there any reason why you are staring at me?”

Dean was shocked painfully back into reality when he noticed that the man was staring back at him. He didn’t look happy. (Granted, he didn’t look angry either. Or upset. Or anything, really.)

Dean gaze flicked downward for a moment. The man had been doing shots. He didn’t look like the shots type, but Dean was willing to roll with it.

Dean lifted his gaze, back to the dark-haired man’s face. “Ah,” Dean started. He chuckled. “Sorry, man. I spaced out.”

The man nodded. “Castiel.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Castiel.”

Just as Dean was about to speak, the bartender glided in his direction. “Anything I can get for you, Dean?” he asked.

“Nah, nothing for me,” Dean replied quickly.

When Dean turned back to Castiel, he had returned to staring straight ahead.

“Dean.”

Castiel turned to face Dean once again. “What?”

Dean smirked. “My name. It’s Dean.” Castiel smiled in return. It was a weak smile. There were deep bags under his eyes, as well. Actually, Dean swore he could feel waves of stress coming off of the guy. 

“So, Castiel,” Dean said. “Any reason you look like you’re on the verge of passing out?”

Castiel quickly averted his gaze, and Dean began to panic. Had he overstepped his boundaries?

Thankfully, Castiel responded. “I’m working… a job,” he said softly.

Dean nodded. “Guessin’ you’re not gonna tell me what kind of job?”

Castiel turned to look at Dean, snickering. “No, I’d rather not.”

“I like the whole John Constantine look you got going, by the way.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head ever so slightly. “Who?”

“Dude, seriously?” Dean said with a laugh. “John Constantine. Hellblazer comics.”

Castiel didn’t look any less confused.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, so, what’s up with the shots? Since you’re workin’ a job, I mean.”

A small smile spread across Castiel’s face. “I have a very high tolerance for alcohol.”

“Yeah, I assumed. You’re speakin’ better than I am, and I haven’t had a drop.”

Castiel nodded. “So why are you here, Dean? You don’t seem to intend to drink.” He paused. “And the bartender knew your name. I assume you’re a regular?”

Dean pursed his lips before responding. “Honestly? I just like the environment. Can’t drink tonight, don’t have a designated driver. I wanted to play some pool maybe, but my uncle’s still pissed from the last time I gambled. And yeah, I’m pretty regular here.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes again. “Your uncle?”

“Uh, yeah. I live with my uncle. Surrogate uncle, technically. But he’s just as much family as a blood-relative, trust me.”

Castiel smiled and nodded. “That sounds nice. Do you have a job?”

Dean frowned. He wasn’t usually a fan of disclosing his job. Mechanics weren’t exactly on the top of the totem pole. “Yeah. I’m a mechanic,” Dean said, nonetheless.

“That’s an impressive trade,” Castiel said. “It must take a great deal of skill.”

Dean’s grin returned. “I’d like to say it does, but a lot of people will tell you otherwise. Just not a respected career, I guess.”

“Why not?” Castiel sounded genuinely confused.

“I dunno, man,” Dean said with a shrug.

Dean watched as Castiel’s gaze flew up to the clock behind the bar. “I really should be going,” he said, a hint of urgency in his voice.

“Gotta work that job?” Dean asked with a teasing smile.

Castiel simply nodded. “Yes. I apologize. It was nice talking to you, Dean.”

“Nice talking to you too,” Dean said.

With that, Castiel quickly drew a wallet from his pocket. He pulled out a wad of bills and left them on the counter before weaving through the crowd and out the door.

After Castiel’s departure, Dean found himself drifting toward the pool tables.

He ended up raking in $30. Not that that would make Bobby any happier.

Dean yawned as he threw the bar’s front door open.

“Better buy something next time, Dean!” the bartender called out from behind. Dean chuckled.

He slid into the Impala and started the engine before pulling out.

Dean passed alleyway after alleyway. The scenery didn’t phase him.

Until one thing wasn’t like the others.

As Dean passed by, he caught sight of a girl. Seemingly unconscious, and lying just inside an alley.

“Shit,” he murmured to himself. He turned around at the first opportunity.

Pulling into a space that was definitely not a parking space, Dean flung open the door to his car. He made his way slowly over to the girl. Should he call 911? Maybe he should just see if she’s okay first.

“Hey,” Dean said as he made his way into the alley. “You okay?” _Of course she isn’t okay, Winchester._

The girl didn’t respond.

Dean sighed and pulled out his phone. Just as he was about to press the “emergency” button, a tight grip wrapped around his throat. Dean gasped as he looked down to see the girl, smiling wickedly now. Before Dean could say anything (not that he could speak, anyway), he found himself pressed up against a brick wall. Fuck, the girl was strong.

Dean made some sort of indistinguishable choking noise, and the girl burst out laughing.

“How stupid are you?” she said. “I’ve been waiting for at least two hours, and you were the first person dumb enough to do anything.”

More choking noises. Maybe it was time to give up on speaking.

That’s when it happened. The moment Dean’s life took a turn he had only dreamt of.

The girl opened her mouth, and dozens of fangs grew inside.

Dean gasped even louder than he had been previously. The girl laughed. Dean’s mind, on the other hand, had gone from clutter and confusion to _vampirevampirevampire_.

So he took a risk. He swung as hard as he could, nailing the gir- vampire in the jaw. Just to Dean’s luck, she let go of his throat and staggered backwards.

“You little bitch, I-” she looked up, only to see Dean running toward the Impala. She cackled.

“Are you kidding me? You’re trying to get away?”

At that point, Dean had thrown open the trunk - which, he’d thankfully left unlocked. He’d have to pat himself on the back for that potential disaster later.

The girl was already at his side as Dean reached for the machete, pulling it out of the car. He turned to face the vampire, only to see that her eyes had gone wide.

“No,” she whispered. “You can’t… you weren’t supposed to be…”

So Dean swung the weapon.

His precision was better than he could have ever hoped. He managed to slice the vampire’s head clean off her shoulders. Her body fell to the pavement with a _thump_.

“Take that, son of a bitch,” Dean muttered.

He stood there in silence for a moment. His mind had never been so loud. He was right. He had been right all along.

Also, Bobby had lied to him. He’d have to confront him about that later.

“Dean?”

A familiar voice rung out to Dean’s right. His gaze snapped in that direction.

Castiel.

“Cas…” Dean said softly. “Listen, man, this isn’t what it looks like. She-”

“You’re a hunter?”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Well,” he muttered. “I… sort of.”

Castiel took a few calculated steps closer.

“That was supposed to be my job, Dean.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again i wrote this pretty quickly but i looked over it more than a few times and i think i found most of the errors! kudos are super cool but comments mean a lot so if you have the time i'd love to hear your feedback

Dean found himself taking a few steps back as Castiel approached him. The man in the trench coat furrowed his brow. 

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m glad that you took care of it.”

Dean swallowed and stood in place, bloodied machete at his side. He looked around. Thankfully, there was no one in sight. But he knew it wouldn’t stay like that forever. He had to get out of there. He had to-

“So you’re a hunter, Cas?” The words slipped out before he could process them.

Castiel nodded. “Yes, I am. And you are… ‘sort of’ a hunter?” he had on a half-smile now. 

Dean returned the nod. “Uh, yeah. I’ve wanted to get into it since I was sixteen - maybe younger - and I’ve had Bab- my car stocked since I was twenty-four. This was my first actual, y’know, hunt. If you can even call it a hunt.” Dean let out a weak chuckle. 

Castiel’s smile grew. He was standing just a few feet from Dean, now. “Well, I _would_ call it a hunt. A successful hunt, at that. Good job, Dean.” 

Dean wondered if there was a nest that Castiel still needed to take care of. Maybe it had been a rogue vampire.

He took a few steps toward his trunk, redepositing the machete. He’d take care of the stain later. “Thanks, man. I guess. I just… I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, this was ten times as thrilling as I could have ever imagined, but it also freaks me the fuck out. Shit, Cas, I’m a hunter now. I’m _actually_ a hunter. A fuckin’ hunter. I feel like I’m inside one of Bobby’s stories.”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow. “Bobby?”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, um, the uncle I told you about earlier. He’s sorta the reason I got into all of this. Used to tell me stories as a kid. Insisted they were fictional, but I knew they were real. Or, at least, the creatures inside of ‘em were. I think… I think he used to be a hunter. Retired, I guess.” He shrugged.

Castiel chuckled. “A retired hunter? That’s not exactly a simple feat. I commend your uncle.”

Castiel had made his way around so that he was standing just beside Dean, peering into the trunk. “That’s an impressive collection, for someone who has never hunted before.” He paused, pointing to Dean’s EMF meter. “What’s that?” Castiel asked.

“Homemade EMF meter,” Dean responded, grinning pridefully. “Built it outta a busted walkman.”

Castiel nodded, smiling. “Again, that’s very impressive.”

“Nah, not really. I don’t even know if it works yet. Haven’t gotten an opportunity to try it out,” Dean said.

Castiel’s smile widened once more. “I can offer you an opportunity to test it, if you’d like.”

In an instant, Dean’s brows flew upward. “You can?” he asked, trying to subdue the excitement in his voice. 

“Yes,” Castiel said. “I am actually going to be heading to Iowa tomorrow to check out a possible haunting. Would you be interested in coming with?”

Dean couldn’t speak for a moment, words caught in his throat. “Hell yeah I would,” he said eventually. 

Castiel looked back to the trunk for a few seconds. “I thought that that would be your response. I suppose I should give you the details.”

So that’s what Castiel did. He gave Dean the name and address of the motel he was staying at, requesting that Dean meet him there at 5:30 in the morning (to which Dean groaned). Castiel also stated that he would give Dean the address to the Iowa motel and the location of the haunting in the morning. 

Dean nodded. “Thanks, man. See you tomorrow morning.”

Castiel’s smile faded.

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “What? What’s up?”

“Your uncle,” Castiel muttered. “He being a retired hunter, do you think that he will be happy with this? I don’t want to strain your relationship with your family.”

Dean shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see. Don’t worry, I can handle it, okay?”

Castiel offered a small smile. “Okay. If you’re sure that it won’t be a severe issue. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. See you.”

Dean was nearly shaking on the drive home. He blasted Led Zeppelin in an attempt to calm himself down, but his plan fell flat. He couldn’t shake the excitement, the nervousness, the absolute adrenaline rush he was experiencing. He was going on a hunt. With some guy he barely knew, but that part didn’t matter. At least not in those moments of exhilaration. 

His first case.

Dean pulled up in front of Bobby’s house, the bliss fading instantly. He was going to have to explain the situation to Bobby. The guy would know if he was lying, too, so that wasn’t an option. Dean let out a heavy sigh. Shit. 

Part of him hoped that his uncle would be asleep, but Dean knew that he wouldn’t be. All the lights were on when he stepped into the house, anyway. So he had no excuse not to get this over with.

“Bobby?” Dean called. 

“In here.” He heard the voice come from the kitchen. Dean’s heart was pounding as he made his way to where Bobby was seated at the kitchen table, reading an even thicker book than he had been earlier. He didn’t even look up as Dean stepped inside. 

“Bobby,” Dean repeated. “I have some… news for you.”

Finally, Bobby lifted his gaze. “Good new or bad news? You weren’t gamblin’, were you?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, uh, guess I did gamble a bit. But that’s not-”

“Boy, how many times do I have to tell you not to put your money at risk like that? Not unless it’s necessary for your goddamn survival.”

“Yeah, sorry, Bobby. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you,” Dean said with a feeble grin. He was losing strength by the second. 

Bobby’s stare was focused directly on Dean, now. He didn’t look happy, either. That wasn’t exactly helping Dean out. 

“Bobby…” Dean said slowly. “Y’know how I confronted you a couple of years ago about the lore?”

To Dean’s surprise, Bobby’s gaze immediately returned to his book. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he muttered. 

Dean sighed. “Bobby, I know the lore is real. The stories. I know it’s all real. And-”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Bobby practically growled, looking up at Dean. “It ain’t real. All fiction. Woulda never told you any of it if I’d known you’d obsess like this.”

Dean was silent. Maybe he should just scrap the whole deal. Blow off Castiel and forget about hunting. 

"Bobby..." Dean said, trying to sooth the quiver in his voice. "I killed a vampire."

Bobby's expression fell. "You did _what_?" he said softly. 

Dean hardened his features, despite the fact that his heart was about to leap out of chest. “In my defense, it attacked me first.”

Bobby didn’t say a word. Instead, he opted to stare directly at Dean, wide-eyed. Dean would have actually prefered it if he spoke. 

“I was driving down by-”

“This ain’t funny, boy,” Bobby said, and Dean would hear the fear in his voice.

“I’m tellin’ the truth.” Dean’s tone was gentler than before. “Listen, Bobby, I knew you wouldn’t be happy with this. I just wanted to be honest with you.”

Bobby sighed. “As long as it was in self defense.”

Dean, frankly, was shocked. That was not the direction he thought this would go in. 

“How’d you kill the thing, anyway?”

Dean tried to smile, but failed. He knew the conversation was only going to darken from this point on. He hadn’t even told Bobby about Castiel yet. “I sorta, ah, have a supply of basic hunting gear in Baby’s trunk.”

Bobby shook his head. “You’re trying to test me, aren’t you, boy? How long have you had this ‘supply’?” 

“Two years.” Dean smirked half-heartedly. 

Bobby huffed. “Suppose this is my fault. Shouldn’t have told those hunting stories growin’ up, all that lore.”

Dean swallowed. “There’s sorta one more thing I gotta tell you.”

Bobby closed the book he had set in front of him. “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

Dean chuckled. “What do think I’m gonna say?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s get this over with.”

“I met another hunter. Name’s Castiel. We’re… we’re headin’ out to Iowa tomorrow. To take care of a haunting.”

Bobby didn’t speak immediately, instead opting to take his time standing up. “Castiel, huh?” he said quietly. “Haven’t heard of him.”

The kitchen fell into silence. Dean spent it preparing for what he knew was going to come.

“Boy, what the hell are you thinking?” Bobby exploded. “Listen, I know you’re a grown adult. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try to knock some sense into you! On the other hand, I ain’t here to babysit you, but by the looks of it that’s what you need! You…” He crossed his arms, which had previously been quite active. “You’re actin’ like a goddamn idjit. You have no idea what you’re gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean nodded. “Listen, that’s true. I don’t have any idea what I’m getting myself into. But I’m going to learn, Bobby. I’m gonna do what I can to help people. Save people.”

“Then head down to the local fire station! If you go through with this, I’m not gonna be there to save your sorry ass.”

“Bobby,” Dean murmured. “I’m sorry, okay? But I’m doing this. I’m going to do this.”

The older man sighed. “I need some time to take this in,” he stated plainly before flying past Dean and out of the kitchen. 

Dean stood in place for a while before heading toward his bedroom. It was nearly two in the morning and he planned to leave by 4:30. Still, he wished he had the time to reconcile with Bobby before he left. 

After throwing some clothes and his wallet into a travel bag, Dean set his phone alarm. It was 2:15 by the time he got into bed.

Not that he slept that night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i'm actually quite pleased with the second half of this chapter. the first half is a bit sketchy, so i may go back and revise it later. oh, and i actually have the next two chapters planned out! so it shouldn't be long before i put them up. anyway enjoy!!
> 
> **i know nothing about how a phone GPS works, and i think the app costs money? also i'm not sure if it speaks aloud to you?? i apologize for any inaccuracies!**

Castiel’s motel hadn’t been hard to find. It was about as sleazy as sleazy motels got, which didn’t seem to align with the stoic, severe image Dean had of the other hunter. 

He pulled into a space just a few doors down from the number Castiel had given him. Dean checked his phone. It was 5:10. He was early. Should he knock? Castiel was probably awake. The guy seemed like an early riser. 

Dean threw open the door to the Impala and stepped out. The air was chilly, cold even, but he was more than taken care of by his heavy leather jacket. Along with that, he donned the amulet Sam had given him as a Christmas gift when they were kids. It was supposed to have been a gift from Bobby to their father. 

Sam. He’d have to call Sam, explain to the kid what’s going on. Would he even believe Dean? Probably not. Plus, calling Sam would only add more stress to the boy’s plate, as if getting into law school wasn’t enough. Maybe Dean should hold off on that. 

He shook his head, clearing his mind. Dean made his way over to Castiel’s room and knocked. 

He stood in silence for a moment. Then another moment. Another. Dean huffed a sigh, about to return to his car for a bit, when the motel door opened.

Castiel stood before him, dressed in what looked like the same attire as yesterday. He even had his trenchcoat on already. Also, his tie was definitely backwards. 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel was the first to speak. 

Castiel managed a small smile. “Hey, Cas.”

“Please, come inside.”

Dean stepped around Castiel and into the motel room. He cringed at the sight. The walls were painted a questionable puce colour, and the carpet was stained in more than one spot. 

“I know,” Castiel said. He chuckled. “It’s not ideal, but it’s what I’ve gotten used to.”

“‘Spouse I should take it in. It’s what I’ll be gettin’ used to too, right?” Dean muttered. 

Castiel smiled. “Well, not necessarily. Not all motels are this deplorable.”

Dean took a few more steps inside, and he could hear Castiel close the door behind him. He turned to face the dark-haired hunter. 

“So, it’s getting close to 5:30. We heading out soon?” Dean asked, taking note for the first time that Castiel was shorter than him. By a couple of inches at most, but still. 

Castiel nodded. “Yes, we are. All of my things are in my car. 

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Oh, hey,” he said after a beat of silence. “You still need to give me directions.”

“Do you need just the address, or would you like me to give you a map? I have a map.” Castiel was gazing at Dean with large, blue eyes. 

Jesus, the man could be adorable.

Dean chuckled. “Just the address should work. Should be able to program it into my phone’s GPS. I’m not really used to usin’ the thing for much more than contacting my family, but I guess my technologically stunted mind is gonna have to figure it out, huh?” He smiled. 

“I suppose so,” Castiel replied as he reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat, pulling out a small slip of paper. He handed it to Dean. 

Dean took the slip. “Carroll, Iowa,” he read aloud. 

“Yes,” Castiel said. “A friend of mine reached out to me after the recent death of his second wife. By his account, he watched as she was thrown off of a third floor balcony. By what he believes was the ghost of his first wife.”

Dean couldn’t help but experience a brief moment of condolence for the man. However, his mind drifted quickly to the murdered woman. She’d probably been clean of any serious wrong-doing, and yet she had to meet such a gruesome end. Ghosts could be fuckin’ vicious. 

“A vengeful spirit,” Castiel continued, drawing Dean out of his daze. “Most likely.”

“Vengeful over what?” Dean muttered. "Feeling replaced?"

Castiel looked down to his feet for a moment. “Vengeful spirits can become… misguided,” he said.

Dean nodded, growing silent. 

Until, of course, it dawned on him.“Wait, the rest of the family isn’t still in the house, are they?” Dean asked.

To Dean’s relief, Castiel shook his head. “No. They are staying with relatives nearby.” 

“Okay, so we’ve got an empty house to work with. Think it’ll just be a routine salt and burn?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know yet. It may be, yes.” Castiel paused. “You’re already speaking as if you’ve done this before.” 

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, well, I spent my entire childhood learnin’ this stuff. Just ‘cause I never got to put it to use doesn’t mean I don’t have some idea what I’m doing.”

“That is true,” Castiel said. “But we should be leaving now.”

“Yeah, guess we should.”

Castiel nodded. “I will just need to check out first.”

Dean turned to walk toward the door, before pausing. He looked over his shoulder toward Castiel. 

“Wait,” he said. “How exactly are you checking out at five in the morning?”

Castiel’s cheeks flushed for a moment, before he smiled. “I have my methods,” he stated simply. 

Dean smiled back, hesitantly, before opening the motel room door. Castiel followed shortly behind him. 

Dean’s eyes averted from Castiel as he slipped in the Impala. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. Programming the address into his phone’s GPS hadn’t been as difficult as he would have expected. Dean grinned with pride, which quickly turned into a frown. “Where the hell am I supposed to put this thing?” he muttered to himself. 

He shrugged and threw his phone in the passenger's seat. 

The voice - a woman’s voice - began to guide Dean out of the parking lot and onto the road. As he pulled out, he still couldn’t catch sight of Castiel. 

Dean drove in silence for thirty minutes, growing progressively more frustrated that he couldn’t play his music. Maybe he should have asked for the map. 

About sixty minutes into the three hour drive, Dean felt himself pulling over to the side of the road. His hands were shaking. What has doing? He had to talk to someone about this. 

He could call Sammy. 

No, that was a terrible idea. Dean couldn’t dump this all on Sam. 

As that thought was passing through his head, Dean was busy bringing up his phone’s contacts. He selected “Sammy,” and pressed call.

The phone rang a few times, and Dean caught himself letting out a sigh of relief. Maybe Sam wasn’t going to answer. 

“Dean? Dude, it’s six in the morning.”

Was that what heart palpitations felt like? 

Dean was silent. 

“Dean, you there?”

Dean shook his head. “Uh, yeah, Sammy. I’m here.”

“Okay. Then what’s up? I was sleeping, dude,” Sam said with a chuckle.

Dean held his breath for another moment. “I just… I have some news. Thought it’d be better to let you know sooner than later.”

“Good news or bad news?”

Dean let out a weak laugh. “Bobby asked the same thing.”

“Answer the question, man.”

“Ah,” Dean muttered, leaning back in his seat. “Neither? Guess it depends on your perspective.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. Well, is it good news to you? I just wanna know what I’m getting into.”

Dean hesitated. “Yeah. I’d say it’s actually some of the best new I’ve gotten in my life. Next to you gettin’ into Stanford, of course.”

“Okay, then why are you so nervous to tell me?”

“Who said I was nervous?”

“If you weren’t, you probably wouldn’t be avoiding actually telling me what going on,” Sam said. 

Dean rubbed his forehead. “Okay, yeah, I’m nervous. Just… promise me you won’t freak out, okay?”

“Why would I freak out? Dean, what’s going on?”

“Just promise.”

Sam huffed. “Um, yeah, I guess I promise. Now will you get to the point?”

“Okay,” Dean muttered. “You’re probably gonna want to disconnect on me right here, but it has to do with Bobby’s lore.”

“Dean, you don’t still believe in that stuff, right?” Sam spoke cautiously. 

Dean chuckled. “Honestly, Sammy, it’s sorta more than just believin’ at this point.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean swallowed. “I sorta had a run-in with a vamp. Um, vampire.”

“Dean, I-”

“Just listen, Sammy. Listen. I know this whole thing’s gonna sound fuckin’ insane. Trust me, I’m not gonna pretend everything’s just peachy. But after I ganked the vamp… I ran into a hunter. Well, I actually ran into him first at a bar, technically. That doesn’t matter. Guy’s… kinda strange. Not creepy strange, just interesting. Anyway, his name’s Cas. He, ah, sorta invited me on a hunt. In Iowa. Bobby’s pissed, but I’m headin’ there right now. Just thought I should keep you in the loop.”

Sam didn’t say a word.

“C’mon, Sammy, you gotta say something. Anything. Hell, call me out as a raging lunatic, I don’t care,” Dean said. 

“No, Dean,” Sam said slowly. “I don’t think you’re a raging lunatic. I think… I think you’re confused. And you may be being manipulated by someone’s who’s playing on your fantasies.”

Dean sighed. “I’m sorry, Sam, but this is real. I don’t know how I’m gonna prove it to you, but this is real as you and me.”

“Are you going to call Mom and Dad?” Sam said after a beat of silence. 

Dean bit his lip. “I didn’t really think about it. I dunno, Sammy. Listen, it was hard enough calling you, can you imagine having to talk to _Dad_ about something like this?”

“I think Mom would be understanding.”

Dean shrugged. “Probably true. I just don’t want to scare her like that, y’know?”

Sam chuckled. “But you had no problem scaring me.”

“Shit, I didn’t scare you, did I? Listen-”

“No, Dean, it’s okay. You didn’t scare me. I’m just worried and confused as hell. But I’m sure we’ll figure this out. We always do.”

Dean grinned. “You’re the best, Sammy.”

More laughter from Sam. “Hardly, but I’ll take it. So you think you’re gonna call Mom?”

“Probably not,” Dean responded. He paused. “Maybe eventually. Just not now. Callin’ you was hard enough.” 

“Are you on the road right now?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m pulled over. Actually, I should probably get going again. Don’t wanna leave Cas waiting on me.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “Talk to you soon, I guess?”

Dean had on a warm smile as he replied. “Yeah, Sammy. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Bye, you raging lunatic.”

Sam laughed, and hung up before Dean could respond.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay these chapter notes are very important! i ended up developing a bad plot hole while writing chapter four, and unfortunately had to go back to chapter three and change it a bit. all that was edited was the information about the case. below is the updated section, if you'd rather not reread the entire chapter. i would also like to apologize for the quality of this chapter. i don't feel like it meets the standard i set with the first three. anyway like i said below is the updated chapter three section:
> 
> “I suppose so,” Castiel replied as he reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat, pulling out a small slip of paper. He handed it to Dean.
> 
> Dean took the slip. “Carroll, Iowa,” he read aloud.
> 
> “Yes,” Castiel said. “A friend of mine reached out to me after the recent death of his second wife. By his account, he watched as she was thrown off of a third floor balcony. By what he believes was the ghost of his first wife.”
> 
> Dean couldn’t help but experience a brief moment of condolence for the man. However, his mind drifted quickly to the murdered woman. She’d probably been clean of any serious wrong-doing, and yet she had to meet such a gruesome end. Ghosts could be fuckin’ vicious. 
> 
> “A vengeful spirit,” Castiel continued, drawing Dean out of his daze. “Most likely.”
> 
> “Vengeful over what?” Dean muttered. "Feeling replaced?"
> 
> Castiel looked down to his feet for a moment. “Vengeful spirits can become… misguided,” he said.

Dean pulled up to the Carroll, Iowa motel just after nine in the morning. It looked shabby, but lacked the putrid feel of the last.

Not to his surprise, Castiel had already arrived. That, and the hunter was standing just outside one of the yellow doors. Dean parked just a few spaces down from where Castiel stood.

“Hey, man,” he said as he approached Castiel. As per usual, he couldn’t quite read the man’s features. “Sorry I took so long. Wasn’t much traffic, but I sorta had to call my brother at one point.”

Castiel’s expression remained blank. “Your brother. What did you tell him? I don’t believe you’ve mentioned his name.”

“His name’s Sam,” Dean started. “I call him Sammy, though. Kid hates it. Anyway, I gave him the rundown. Told him about the vamp. That I was on a hunt.”

“And how did Sam respond?”

Dean chuckled. “He’s worried about me, I think. I doubt he believes a word of what I told him. Maybe it’s for the best. I mean, he’d probably be more worried if he did believe me, y’know? Probably wouldn’t be a fan of me deciding to potentially risk my life on a regular basis.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, that is probably true. Have you told anyone else?”

“Nope,” Dean said. “I sorta wanna tell my mom, though. Feel like I just gotta be honest with her.”

“And your father?”

Dean winced. “Probably not gonna work out. Can’t imagine that confrontation being anything short of… loud, I guess.”

“I was thinking that we should head down to Alfred’s house immediately,” Castiel stated, as if that was the perfect segway.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean muttered. “Guess we’ll be drivin’ down separately?”

To Dean’s surprise, Castiel shook his head. “I was actually thinking that we take your car.”

“Don’t you have more hunting gear? Shouldn’t we take advantage of that?” Dean asked, entirely thrown off by the other hunter’s decision.

“You have most of what we need for a haunting. Alfred has picked up some gasoline, and I have matches in my pocket. In regards to the house, we may not have to do more than conduct a brief inspection, assuming that this is a simple salt and burn case.”

Dean nodded, taking the information in. He didn’t take his eyes off of Castiel, hoping for some sort of facial cue. Body language. Anything. “So we’re all stocked and ready to go?” he said, cocking his eyebrow.

“Yes,” Castiel said, a small, unreadable smile on his face. “We are ready to go.”

Dean shrugged as he made his way back the Impala. Castiel followed close behind. Like, really close. Did the guy know anything about personal space?

He unlocked Baby and gestured for Castiel to enter on the other side.

“Okay,” Dean said as the other man slipped into the vehicle. “Think you’ll be able to give me directions?”

Castiel nodded. “I should be able to do that, yes,” he said.

The drive wasn’t particularly difficult. Castiel gave clear directions, and they’d reached their destination within twenty minutes.

Dean glued his eyes to the house as he pulled up. It sat atop a tall hill, bright yellow and quaint. Then he realized.

Dean turned to Castiel. “Why are we here? I thought we’d be headin’ down the cemetery first.”

Castiel chuckled. “Dean, did you really think you’d be burning a body, in a public location, in broad daylight?”

“So we’re not gonna salt and burn the body first.”

“No, we are,” Castiel said, only heightening Dean’s confusion. “She is buried in the backyard.”

Dean nodded. “Oh,” he muttered. “Makes sense.”

He stopped the car and stepped out. Castiel followed, clumsily managing to throw the door open. _Has this guy ever been in a car before?_

“Follow me.” Castiel had regained his composure. Dean followed him as he made his way around to the back of the house.

At the base of the hill, Dean caught sight of a small headstone, facing away from him and Castiel. Dean couldn’t hold back a smile when he got a look at the burial sight. That Alfred guy had really done a lot of the work for them. Two cans of gasoline sat to the side, just next to a pair of shovels.

Castiel continued to guide Dean toward the grave.

“Choose a shovel,” Castiel said, staring at the ground that lay just above the casket. “Would you like a brief rundown of the procedure?”

Castiel looked up, and Dean shook his head. “Nah. I think I got it. We gonna go back to my car for the salt? ‘Cause it looks like we’ve already got the burn.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes. First, though, we will desecrate the grave.”

Dean threw his partner a smile. He’d never heard anyone talk about “desecrating” something so casually.

They began to dig.

They continued to dig.

The task was surprisingly grueling, but Dean was hanging in.

Dean was the first to reach the casket. “Think I found it,” he said. “Just need to scrape a bit off the surface.”

“Very good,” Castiel said under his breath. He let out a tired huff, which sounded somewhat forced. That didn’t cross Dean’s mind, though, as he helped the other man to clear away the rest of the dirt.

They threw open the casket.

Dean grimaced just a bit as he got his first glimpse of the deceased woman. He began to wonder how long she’d been dead. Decomposition hardly accentuated your positive features.

“Would you like to bring over some salt?” Castiel asked. Dean looked up.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said.

He duly noted that he was power walking on his way back to the Impala. If you’re going to be enthusiastic about something, why not be enthusiastic about burning a body?

It made enough sense to Dean.

He unlocked the trunk and tossed it open. He stuffed as many canisters of salt into his arms as he could manage, before closing it with his elbow.

Dean made his way around the house and returned to Castiel a few moments later. The dark-haired hunter hadn’t moved, casting a vague stare in the direction of the body.

“Hey,” Dean said. Castiel looked up. “Got the salt. Wanna get started?”

“Yes, that is a good idea,” Castiel said as Dean dumped the canisters of salt onto the ground by his feet. 

“Awesome,” Dean said. “Now get your ass over here and grab some salt.”

Another small smile formed on Castiel’s face. He didn’t say a word as he made his way around to Dean, selecting a canister and flicking it open. He began to pour salt onto the body, and Dean followed his example.

“That should be enough,” Castiel said after just a bit of salt-pouring.

“You sure?” Dean asked. “We could add more. Y’know, to be thorough.”

Castiel shook his head. “No, this is good. Would you like to pour the gasoline?”

Dean shrugged. “Sure,” he said, hoisting one of the cans of gasoline. “Tell me when to stop?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, that sounds like a good plan.”

Dean began to disperse the fluid across the body. It wasn’t long before he heard Castiel’s voice.

“Stop.”

Dean gave his partner a nod and sat the can down beside his feet. “So, we just gotta go pyro on the thing? Or, ah, finish going pyro on the thing.” Dean cocked a grin, only to be met with furrowed brows from Castiel.

Dean coughed. “Anyway, let’s get to it,” he said.

Castiel was true to his word. He reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat, pulling out a small box of matches. Dean watched intentively as he lit one, paused for a moment, and threw the object into the casket.

The flames came quick.

Castiel watched as the body kindled, so Dean followed suit.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the flames. Dean was in a trance by the time Castiel spoke.

“Dean, we should inspect the house now. To make sure everything is in order.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sounds like a plan.”

Castiel had moved over a few feet, right into Dean’s personal bubble. Dean was beginning to wonder if he should bring up the concept of boundaries during their next downtime.

“We need to return to your car, first. We already have more than enough salt, although some iron may be helpful.”

“Um, yeah,” Dean said. “I’ll grab my iron rod.”

He turned and made his way back to Baby. Pulling open the trunk, he reached for the iron rod, which had slipped to the back.

When Dean looked up, he caught sight of Castiel already standing in front of the house. He was carrying two canisters of salt.

Dean made his way over, iron rod at his side. “So, we just gotta take a look around? What are the chances that we didn’t dispel the ghost?”

“The chances are… difficult to say,” Castiel said. “There very well may be a relic of some sort anchoring the spirit to the house.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded, absorbing the news. “You still got your matches on you? In case we need to burn something.”

Castiel nodded.

“Well, looks like we’re good to go, then,” Dean said with a shrug. “The door locked?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, Alfred left it unlocked for us.”

“Awesome. You ready to go?”

“Yes, I am. I am more worried about you, however.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Castiel took a step forward. “Dean, please understand the seriousness of this situation. We are not living your fantasy. The reality is much… deadlier. Do not get lost in a daydream. Be careful.”

Dean was silent for a few seconds. “I- Yeah. I got you, man. I’ll be careful.”

Castiel nodded. “Then I do believe we are ready. Follow me, Dean.”

Dean followed Castiel for a few feet, until they reached the front door. Castiel opened it carefully.

Both men stepped inside.

Castiel turned to Dean. “I think it is best if we stay together, for the time being.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like it’ll work.”

“Good,” Castiel said. “Follow me.”

They began their investigation in silence, which Dean eventually broke.

“So what was the woman’s name? The first wife’s name, I mean. I didn’t get a clear look at the headstone,” he said softly as they wove around the staircase.

“Elizabeth,” Castiel stated plainly.

Dean and Castiel wound up in the family room. It looked lived in, cozy even. Dean felt a tug in his chest. He wasn’t going to be “cozy” for a long time, as far as he knew. Just because he was a tough as hell hunter now didn’t mean he couldn’t get sentimental.

They made their way through the entirety of the first floor before they ended up back at the staircase.

“Second floor?” Dean suggested.

Castiel nodded.

The second floor wasn’t any more eventful. The homey theme was a constant, however. Still, Dean couldn’t help but feel like the baby blue walls were closing in on him.

“I suppose we should check out the third floor,” Castiel said, speaking much louder than Dean had been.

“Yeah,” Dean responded.

The pair of hunters headed up the final set of stairs, Castiel just ahead of Dean. The shorter man was still carrying both canisters of salt.

They stood at the top of staircase for a moment, looking around. “Wanna just head around again? Then we can get the hell outta here,” Dean said with a small chuckle.

“Yes, that sounds good,” Castiel replied.

Everything was quiet as they began to survey the top floor.

They were passing yet another bathroom when Dean felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was either instinct or adrenaline, he wasn’t sure. Dean found himself sweeping around, swinging the iron rod without a second thought. He hadn’t had the chance to see the figure in its entirety, but he did catch sight of blue mist. This was accompanied by a faint cackle.

Dean peered over his shoulder, to see that Castiel had turned around as well. “Dean,” he said. “We need to get out of here.”

“Can’t we stay and try to-”

“No, Dean,” Castiel hissed. “We do not know what is anchoring the spirit here. This is not safe, or even brave. We have to leave.”

Dean nodded as he headed toward the staircase, traveling in front of Castiel now.

They managed to make it halfway down the bottom staircase before the ghost reappeared. For the first time, Dean was able to get a decent look at the creature. It looked sickly. Thin, with hollowed-out cheeks. Still, he didn’t exactly get to look for long. He swung the iron rod almost immediately.

Dean gazed ahead, only to see that they had left the front door open. He let out a sigh of relief. At least something was working in their favour.

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean said, dashing down the remainder of the stairs. He reached the bottom and flew out the door, assuming his partner was still in back of him.

Assuming.

Right as he stepped outside, Dean heard the door fly shut behind him.

“Cas?”

Dean turned to look over his shoulder, eyes widening as he did. Castiel wasn’t there.

“Cas!” Dean growled, pulling on the knob. The door didn’t budge.

He attempted to kick the door in, but it was as if he were striking solid concrete. 

“Cas! Can you hear me?” Dean called, banging on the entryway. “C’mon, Cas, hang in there, man!”

Dean was prepared to give kicking the door in another try when he heard a voice to his right.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean swore he gave himself whiplash. “Cas?” he said.

Defying all known logic, there he was. Castiel was walking toward Dean, staring at him with shockingly relaxed features.

“Shit, man, I was freakin’ the fuck out. How… how’d you get out?”

Castiel looked down. “The back entrance. Thankfully Elizabeth's spirit didn't think to lock it immediately,” he said. “But that is not of import.”

“So, what now?” Dean asked as Castiel stopped just a few feet in front of him. “We gonna head over to Alfred, see what information he can give us? Or should we call him?”

Castiel’s eyes seemed to dig deep beneath Dean’s surface, the way they were fixated on him. “The first one. That is the best plan.”

As they headed back to the Impala, Dean had two things on his mind.

First, they’d forgotten his EMF meter.

Second, there was no way in hell a ghost would "forget" to lock a door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize if i got any hunting procedure wrong. also, call me out if you see any plot holes or similar issues!

“So how’d she die?”

Castiel looked up from his seat in the Impala. Dean had his eyes focused on the road. “Dean, I already told you. She-”

“No, no, not the second wife. Elizabeth. How'd she die?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded. “Elizabeth… she was very sick,” he said vaguely. “She chose not to pass away in a hospital setting. So, unfortunately…” Castiel trailed off.

“She died at home?” Dean finished. “And that’s how she’s haunting the place.”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “You are correct.”

The remainder of the drive to Alfred was near silent, aside from Castiel providing directions here and there.

“Take a left here, and the house is at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

Dean did as he was ordered.

“Which house?”

“That one.”

The hunters pulled up to a home that was much smaller and, hopefully, much less haunted.

Dean took the initiative of ringing the doorbell. They could hear it chime from outside, high-pitched and startled sounding. Dean and Castiel waited.

A woman opened the door. Instinctively, Dean threw on a smile.

"Hey," the woman said, looking at Dean, then Castiel, then Dean. "Are you guys Al's friends? He said you'd be coming."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Castiel beat him to it. "Yes, we are. May we come in?"

The woman flicked a strand of chestnut hair over her shoulder before responding. "Yeah, of course. Sure. Come on in." She stepped out of the way, allowing room for the pair of hunters to enter.

Dean stepped inside first, offering the woman a polite nod. Castiel followed close behind.

"Al's in the den," the woman said. "Oh, and I'm Coraline, by the way. In case you wanted to put a name to the face."

Castiel smiled. "It is very nice to meet you, Coraline. Could you point us in the direction of the den?"

"Yeah, sure. Straight now this hallway, to your right," she said, gesturing to Dean's right.

Now both men nodded. "Thank you, Coraline," Castiel said.

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said with a grin. Castiel was already making his way down the hall. Dean jogged to catch up.

They reached what he assumed was the den, and Dean peered inside. Two people occupied the space. The first was a bald, dark-skinned man. His features looked uncommonly sullen, so Dean decided it was fair to assume that the man was Alfred. Against a separate wall, a teenage girl was slouched in a chair. She shared Alfred's deep skin tone, as well as his nose - just not his hair. Bright pink dreadlocks reached to what must have been at least her mid-back. It was also noteworthy that the girl's expression was significantly calmer. Blissful, even.

Of course, that was only what Dean could gauge from two seconds of observation.

After those two seconds passed, Alfred was bounding across the room. "Castiel," he said, features brightening instantly. "How are you? Have you taken care of Elizabeth yet?"

"Calm down, dad. Breath and let the guy speak, okay?" the girl muttered, before sighing heavily.

Alfred looked over his shoulder at his daughter. "This is important, honey."

"Yeah, whatever. I know the deal. Mom's ghost just killed that Amber bitch. The stars were in alignment, that day."

Dean stared at the girl, wide-eyed, while Alfred only huffed. "You'll have to excuse Cassidy," he said. "She was never able to accept my remarriage after her mother's passing."

"Because it was a desperate, bullshit move. You didn't even love her," Cassidy sneered.

Alfred let out a weak chuckle. "We should talk in the kitchen," he suggested.

Dean nodded.

Alfred brought Dean and Castiel down another hallway, which led directly into a small kitchen-slash-dining room.

"Take a seat," the bald man said, gesturing toward a diner-style table.

Dean pulled out a chair and plopped down. Castiel and Alfred did the same.

"Okay," Alfred said after a fair deal of silence. "Tell me what happened. Is Elizabeth's ghost gone?"

Castiel shook his head, and Alfred's features immediately fell. "We salted and burned her remains," the dark-haired hunter said. "But upon entering the house, we were confronted by her ghost. I believe that there is an object anchoring her here. Could you think of what that may be?"

Alfred was silent.

"Hey, Al," Dean said, maybe just a bit too forcefully. "Listen. If you have any idea, any idea at all, you gotta tell us. We can't help you otherwise."

Alfred swallowed hard. "Would a lock of hair anchor her?"

"Hell yeah it would! Now we're getting somewhere. Do you have a lock of Elizabeth's hair?" Dean asked.

Alfred was still for a moment, before he nodded.

"Alfred," Castiel said, gentle tone contrasting Dean's rough one. "Where do you keep this lock of hair?"

Alfred smiled slightly, before returning to his frown. He reached into the collar of his shirt, extracting a large gold pendant.

Alfred pulled the pendant open.

A locket.

Alfred appeared to be holding his breath as he kept the open locket turned toward himself.

“Alfred, is that where the lock of hair is located?” Castiel asked, not even attempting to peer over and into the locket.

Dean took that initiative.

“C’mon, let’s see,” he said, standing up and making his way beside the older man. He placed his hands on the table and leaned down to get a clearer look.

“Looks like we’ve got our anchor,” Dean confirmed, referring to the strand of dark hair before him.

“So you’ll be burning this? Just the hair, right? I didn’t get the locket until after Elizabeth’s death. Still, it reminds me of her,” Alfred said meekly.

“Yes, we will have to. And just the hair should do. After that, we should be able to reassess your home,” Castiel said with a small nod.

Alfred sighed. “Okay, okay. Just… get it over with.” He handed the locket carefully over to Castiel.

Dean sat back down as Castiel rose. “I will be right back,” he said, trailing out of the kitchen. He was balancing the open locket on his palm.

Dean stared ahead, avoiding eye contact with the grieving man. It was odd, though. He seemed to be grieving Elizabeth more than his late wife, Amber.

“So,” Alfred said. Dean turned his head to face the source of the voice.

“Yeah?” Dean muttered when the other man didn’t continue.

“Castiel told me that he’d be bringing a partner, but he never mentioned your name.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Name’s Dean.” He smiled.

Alfred smiled back. “Nice to meet you, Dean. How did you and Castiel meet?”

 _What is this, meet the parents?_ “We, ah, had a mutual run in with a vampire,” Dean said.

There was another beat of silence.

“Castiel told you what he is, right? Because he tried to hide it from me for a while.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “Um, a hunter?” he muttered.

Alfred chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, an air of humour in his voice. “A hunter.”

Dean was about to ask what the hell the other man was talking about when Castiel reentered the room, closed locket in hand.

“The hair is gone,” Castiel said. “Dean, I suggest that we take a look at Alfred’s residence immediately.”

Dean nodded. “Uh, yeah.” He turned to Alfred. “It was… nice talking to you, man.” Dean didn’t know if “nice” was the most appropriate word. “Fucking confusing” may have been more accurate.

Alfred nodded. “It was nice talking to you too, Dean. Keep your senses sharp.”

Maybe “cryptic” would work, as well.

Coraline wished the pair a goodbye as they made their way toward the front door. “Hey, it’s great of you guys to be helping Al out like this. I just thought you should know that. Good luck,” she said.

“It’s not a problem,” Castiel responded.

The drive back to the Alfred’s house was quiet, Dean having learned the fairly simple route. He had a knack for navigation, anyway.

As they stepped out of the Impala, Castiel spoke. “It may be safe for us to split up this time. It all get the job done quicker.”

Dean nodded as he made his way around to Baby’s trunk. He opened it and reached for his iron rod, as well as the pair of salt canisters that they _hadn’t_ left by the desecrated grave.

Dean handed one of the canisters to Castiel. “I’ll keep one this time,” he said.

“After this we should be able to rebury Elizabeth,” Castiel said, staying true to his usual distance from Dean. Which was pretty damn close. “The fire has most likely burnt out by this point.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan,” Dean said.

Castiel nodded. “I would like to cover the third floor. You wouldn’t mind taking the first and second?”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “Sounds good. I can manage that.”

The house checked out. Every nook was surveyed. Dean even tried provoking Elizabeth’s ghost shortly into the inspection.

“C’mon, if you’re gonna haunt a house, do it right!”

No ghost in sight.

Dean waited outside of the house for a few minutes, leaning back against the yellow paneling. When Castiel didn’t exit, he decided to make his way around to the back of Alfred’s home.

“Cas? You back here?”

Not surprisingly, Castiel was back there. He was already busy shoveling dirt back into the grave. Dean sauntered closer.

“Need any help with that?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Help would be appreciated.”

Dean joined in. He found himself glancing over to Castiel every now and again. This all looked so effortless for him. As if he wasn’t exerting a drop of energy.

As they slid back into the Impala, Dean came to a realization.

“Hey, Cas?”

Castiel looked up at Dean and away from his phone. _He’s probably calling Alfred._ Texting Alfred, maybe? Did Castiel text?

“Don’t mean to interrupt, but can I ask you a question?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, of course, Dean. What is it?”

“Why didn’t you remind me to grab the EMF meter? Not that it’s your responsibility, but I forgot twice, dude. When we met you seemed pretty enthusiastic about tryin’ the piece of junk out.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “I assumed you’d changed your mind about using it. That you wanted just a bit more of a challenge.”

“Oh,” Dean said, turning his eyes back ahead as he started the Impala. “Guess that makes sense. We heading back to the motel?”

“Yes, we are.”

As they began to drive, Castiel punched a number into what Dean now realized was probably a burner. Why else would the guy be using a cheap flip phone?

“Hello, Alfred,” Dean heard Castiel say. After a moment, the hunter continued. “Yes, we have successfully expelled Elizabeth’s ghost. You are safe to return home.”

Dean couldn’t help but listen in to the rest of the conversation. Castiel spent much of it attempting to quell Alfred’s fury of emotions.

Dean glanced at Castiel after a long period of silence, only to see his features had gone solemn.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I’m sorry. I wish I could be there.” Castiel’s end went silent for another beat. “Yes, of course. Goodbye, Alfred.”

Castiel closed the phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his oversized trenchcoat.

“What were you apologizing over? Couldn’t be where?” Dean questioned.

“Amber’s funeral,” Castiel stated simply.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I shoulda been able to figure that out. Sorry.”

“It’s no problem, Dean.”

Dean shrugged off the slight embarrassment he was feeling.

They reached the motel not long after. Dean pulled up, stepping out just before Castiel.

“So,” he said. “We sharing a room?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes.”

“Are we checked in?”

“Yes.”

Dean pursed his lips. “Okay, then. Which room is ours?”

“Room 124,” Castiel said, pointing straight down from where they stood.

“Awesome. Let me just grab my duffel from the backseat.”

Castiel furrowed his brow as Dean opened one of the Impala’s back doors. “What did you bring?”

“Just some clothes,” he replied, reaching in to grab the bag. “I’d thrown my wallet in there too, but I had to stop for gas on the way here. So that’s back with me.”

Castiel nodded. “Okay. That should be okay.”

The pair made their way to their room, Dean humming Metallica underneath his breath. He didn’t even notice the amused look Castiel was giving him.

They reached the door labeled “124,” and Castiel pulled a set of keys out of his pocket.

“You carry everything in there?” Dean asked as Castiel unlocked the door.

“No,” Castiel stated, passing Dean a confused stare.

Unlike Castiel’s last motel room, this one didn’t seem to suck the hope right out of you. It was clean, although not pristine. Dark green carpeting and two beds, topped with white sheets. The walls were striped, alternating between dark and light green.

Dean cocked a grin. “Not bad,” he said.

Castiel chuckled. “Nothing less from the Drive On Motel.”

Dean threw his travel bag on the nearest bed. “Hey,” he said, still looking around. “You mind if I take a nap? I didn’t exactly sleep last night. Think I’ve been running on adrenaline the whole day.”

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t mind at all, Dean.”

Dean huffed. “Thank god.” He fell onto the bed, nearly crushing his bag.

Sleep hit Dean quickly, and hard.

He didn’t dream of anything. Nothing he remembered, at least.

Dean woke to find his face plastered to the pillow.

He sat up slowly, flipping around and draping his legs over the side of his bed. He now had a perfect view of the bed beside him. “Cas?”

Castiel was sitting on his passably comfortable mattress, cross-legged. He was staring straight ahead, until Dean said his name.

“You’re awake,” Castiel said.

“Yeah. For the most part.” He paused, eyes locked with Castiel. “I think I’m gonna go on a walk. I’m still sorta overwhelmed by today. Wait, it is still today, right?”

“It is always ‘today’, Dean.”

Dean chuckled. How in the hell Castiel’s social ineptitude became endearing, he would never know.

“So, yeah, gonna go on that walk now,” Dean said. Thankfully he’d slept in his jacket and boots.

“Wait,” Castiel said, springing up from his spot on the bed. He made his way toward Dean. “It’s late. I’m coming with you.”

Dean laughed. “Dude, I don’t need a chaperone. It’s okay.”

Castiel just stared at the other hunter. “I’m coming with you,” he repeated. “Not as a chaperone. As a companion of mutual status.”

Dean puffed out his cheeks, before sighing. “Fine, okay. You can come with.”

A smile spread across Castiel’s face. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean lead them out the door. Castiel was right. It was dark. Still, he decided that walking along a nearly deserted road wouldn’t pose too much danger, in terms of traffic. Hell, Dean wouldn’t even mind if they were jumped. He was still riled up and very willing to punch something.

They made their way across the motel parking lot, onto the street.

“Wrong side of the road, dude,” Dean said, gesturing for Castiel to join him. “Walk against traffic.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, intense curiosity in his voice. It was as if he’d just picked up on a few fad.

They walked for a while. Dean wasn’t sure how long. He kept his hands in his pockets to stay warm, despite his jacket.

“Dean, do you think we should turn around?”

Dean looked over his shoulder at his companion of mutual status. “Yeah, I guess,” he responded.

Castiel looked down and smiled. Just as Dean was grinning back, though, he caught sight of headlights.

“Step to the side of the road, Cas,” Dean said. He didn’t know why he was speaking to the man as if he were a child.

Castiel nodded and obliged. Dean stepped over a moment later.

Dean prepared for the car to pass. Whoever was driving had a different idea in mind. To Dean’s surprise and suspicion the car came to a stall beside him and Castiel. Dean recognized the car as a 2002 Volvo S80.

The car sat in silence for a moment, along with Dean and Castiel.

The driver’s window rolled down.

“Hey there,” a redheaded woman said, flashing a grin. “What are you boys doing out so late?” Dean could hear snickering from the back seat.

Dean was only able to offer a half-smile in return. “Just on a walk. Had a rough day.”

The woman nodded and Dean peered over toward Castiel. He had never seen the other man look so alert.

“So,” the woman continued. “You don’t mind if we… join you for a bit?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, we were just headin’ back to our motel. You don’t have to-”

He stopped speaking instantly as the woman’s brown eyes decided to try on something new for size. They flashed to black.

_What do you know, my first run-in with a demon._

Dean stood, a neutral expression on his face.

Castiel, on the other hand, looked like he was about to pounce. In fact, Dean was able to clearly read Castiel’s features. That wasn’t exactly a common phenomenon. What he saw surprised him: intense anger mixed with intense concentration. Dean had never seen Castiel angry before. Of course, there was the fact that they’d only known each other for a day.

That wasn’t important.

The demon was chuckling. She looked like she was about to speak when Dean interrupted. “So, how many demons you got there? Four, looks like? Assuming you’re all of the demon variety.”

Dean expected to startle the demon. Surprise her over his knowing what she was.

Instead, he was met with roaring laughter from the entire car.

“You’re spot on. Isn’t that right, Castiel?” the redheaded demon cooed.

Dean turned to face Castiel, eyes gone wide. “You know her?” he said.

Castiel swallowed.

“Actually,” the demon started. “I’ve never met him. But I’ve heard a lot. We all have, haven’t see?”

The rest of the car chuckled, and Dean could see them nod.

“Cas, how do they-”

“That doesn’t matter. Dean, do you know any exorcisms?”

Dean remained still. “By memory? Just a couple.”

The demon sneered. “You’re going to make him _exorcise_ us? How old-fashioned.”

The redheaded demon swung her door open, and Dean took a step back. The rest of the doors flew open a moment later.

“Dean, run into the trees!” Castiel exclaimed.

“What? Why? I-”

“Just do it, please!”

Despite his confusion, Dean found himself bolting into the dense forest along the road.

He was deep into the trees when he heard the footfalls behind him. Dean swept around, only to see the redheaded demon.

“So you’re a hunter? Aw, you’re too pretty to be a hunter. You-”

“ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,_ ” Dean started. The demon laughed. Then she was coughing.

“ _Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica._ ”

The demon had tried to make her way over toward Dean. Instead, she found herself bent over, coughing madly. “Y- you… we were supposed to… talk first.” 

Dean heard a scream. He prayed it hadn’t come from Castiel.

Still, he was tempted to drop some kind of half thought-out retort on the demon. Dean continued, ignoring the urge:

“ _Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire-_ ”

“I doubt Castiel’s even told you who he is!” the demon blurted. Another scream rang out in the background.

“ _...te rogamus, audi nos._ ”

The demon howled as black smoke flew from her mouth. Dean watched the sight with wide eyes. Bobby had described exorcisms in detail on numerous occasions, and yet the actual visual was more haunting than Dean had imagined.

The smoke faded, and the woman the demon had been possessing fell to the ground with a _crunch_.

Dean immediately jogged over to her, his own heart pounding as he felt her pulse.

She was alive. 

Shit. If she was the only demon to have followed Dean, that meant Castiel had been bombarded by three.

He’d have to come back for the unconscious woman.

Dean flew back to the car without a second’s thought.

He had to restrain a gasp at the sight. Two of the demons lay on the street. The last, a light-haired demon with a build much larger than Dean’s partner, was grappling with Castiel.

Dean was prepared to lunge forward, to help the other man subdue the demon, when Castiel placed his palm on the demon’s forehead.

Dean watched in horror as the scene unfolded.

Bright light streamed from the demon’s mouth and eyes. He wailed as Castiel remained sturdy, hand still placed on his forehead.

Finally, the demon fell to the ground.

Dean was prepared to run. Somewhere, anywhere. Back into the woods maybe.

Castiel turned around.

Dean’s breath hitched. He could almost see the panic in Castiel’s eyes.

“Dean…” Castiel said softly. Pleadingly, almost.

All Dean could do was shake his head, before locking eye contact with the other hunter.

"What the hell are you?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i spent a couple of days editing this chapter, just to make it less confusing. still, i think it's a bit... jumbled? if you have any questions or need me to clarify anything, just ask! also, the reason Bobby read Dean so much lore as a child is coming up in the next chapter, hopefully.

Dean was gaping. Castiel didn’t look any less shocked.

“Dean, please, listen-”

“What the fuck, Cas?” Dean hissed. “What the hell was that?” He tried his best to appear on guard, but he was panicking. Had Castiel tricked him? Had this all been a ploy?

Had Dean really been that naïve?

Castiel was silent, eyes wide.

“So, what? You’re some kinda hyper-advanced, rogue demon? Or are you something else? Just… what the hell are you? ‘Cause I’m sorry man, but I gotta know if I should be hunting you right now.” _Even though you have no goddamn weapons on you._

“Dean,” Castiel said softly. “You have no reason to hunt me.”

Dean nearly found himself relaxing at Castiel’s gentle tone. “Then I guess I’ll have to repeat myself for the goddamn thousandth time: What even _are_ you, Cas?”

Castiel hesitated.

“Yeah, this is gonna-”

“I am an angel of the Lord.”

Dean didn't miss a beat. "You're lying," he said. "There is no such thing."

Castiel didn’t flinch, but fear remained obvious on his face.

“I’m sorry that I lied to you, Dean,” he said. His eyes went wide again as Dean took a few steps forward. “About being human, not about being an angel,” Castiel added quickly.

“Okay,” Dean muttered. “Say you are some fluffy-winged, heavenly-ass _angel_. Why the hell should I trust you now? You tricked me, Cas. You pretended to be hunter. You-”

“I am a hunter,” Castiel stated. “I am also an angel.”

“Then why take me on as a partner? Since you obviously weren’t planning on telling me about whatever sort of _divine_ powers you have. Wouldn’t I just get in the way?”

Castiel shuffled and gazed at his feet. “I wanted to experience what it would be like to be… a ‘regular’ hunter,” he said, air-quotes included.

The street was silent for a moment before Dean continued. “Okay. Okay, then why do you look so fucking terrified right now? If you could kill a demon like that, I’m pretty damn sure you could do the same to me.” 

“I could, yes,” Castiel said softly. “But I am not sure I can trust you fully, either. We have only known each other for a day, Dean. You could be hiding an angel blade in your car, or in your ‘duffel’. I just… I do not know.”

“I’m pretty freakin’ sure you could get away from me before I got a jab at you. Is that some kinda angel mojo too? Is that why you were so dead-set on taking my car? ‘Cause I’m starting to bet you don’t use one.”

Castiel nodded. “Well, yes. That is some kind of ‘angel mojo’. Which I do not have. And, yes, I do have a car. I just wanted the experience of traveling with another hunter. I apologize if this doesn’t make much sense.”

“Yeah, buddy, I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

Castiel had returned to his usual position of staring at Dean. “I am not able to travel by angelic means because I was… expelled from Heaven.”

Dean’s raised both brows. “So, what? You’re some kinda fallen angel? Why the hell were you expelled, anyway?”

“Why I was cast from Heaven is not of import,” Castiel said quietly. “But since then, I have only wanted to assist in saving people, Dean. I came to the realization that I was able to use my abilities to help. I thought… I thought that if I were to find a human companion that I could briefly experience what it is like to be a true hunter myself."

Dean massaged his forehead and chuckled. "Okay," he said. “So, let me get this straight. You’re trying to tell me that you’re an angel, cast from Heaven, who picked me up just ‘cause I had even a remnant of hunting knowledge? Why did you pick me, anyway? Why not a more experienced hunter?”

“Because not many hunters would take on a partner so easily. You were willing, to put it simply. And almost none are so eager to hunt. I thought that you would be… an experience.” Castiel said, looking at his feet. Dean couldn’t tell whether it was the result of shame, or embarrassment over being caught. “And, yes, if you’d like me to reiterate. I am an angel. Although I understand if you choose not to believe me. I understand if you choose to forcibly evict me from our motel room.”

Dean sighed. “Listen, Cas. I’m not gonna evict you. And I guess I’ll run with those whole angel thing. Don’t know if I believe it - pretty sure I don’t, actually - but I’m gonna go with my gut.”

“What does your gut say, Dean?” Castiel asked.

“It says that I can trust you. I think. Again, I might be wrong, and I know I’m not gonna let my guard down. But we can stick together, okay? For now, at least,” Dean said, 

Castiel’s face lit up. “Thank you,” he said simply.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I can’t hunt on my own yet. Anyway, the girl I exorcised. We still need to go back and get her. I’ll-”

“Hello?”

Dean cast his stare over to the woods. Castiel was peering in that direction a moment later.

The redheaded woman stood there, dirt covering her right right side. Her arms were crossed, and she appeared to avoid looking into the hunters’ eyes.

“My name’s Summer,” she said slowly. “Thanks… for saving me. I don’t know how long that _thing_ was inside of me. It was the weirdest feeling. I could see what was going on with my body, but I had no control over it, y’know?”

Summer paused, but Dean and Castiel waited for her to continue.

“I watched it kill people. Slowly, usually. I don’t… I don’t know why it didn’t want to kill you.”

“Yeah, well, I was sorta wonderin’ the same thing,” Dean said, with the gentlest smile he could muster. The woman was already frightened enough. He didn’t want to contribute to it.

“It was me.”

Both Dean and Summer turned to look at the angel.

“I was more than likely the reason Dean was left unharmed.” Vague as ever.

Summer turned her gaze slightly upward. “And why did they leave _you_ unharmed?”

Castiel didn't respond.

Summer's eyes widened immediately as she caught a glimpse of the middle of the street. “So they didn’t want to leave you unharmed,” she muttered. “You just got them before they could.” Summer took a few steps around Dean and Castiel, examining the bodies.

“Jesus, thanks for not doing that to me.”

Castiel smiled. “You should be thanking Dean. Although I was the one to suggest he use an exorcism, he was skilled enough to initiate it.” He hesitated. “I am sorry that I could not save the others.”

“Why did they care so much about you?” Summer asked.

Castiel sighed. “That is complicated,” he said. “You could say… some demons do not let go easily.”

“Let go of what?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’d rather not say. For the time being, at least.”

“Does this have anything to do with you being cast from Heaven?”

Summer looked between the two others, mouth hanging just slightly open for a moment. “What?”

Dean offered the woman another grin. “Ah, you might not even want to know. Still not buying it myself.”

“I am an angel.”

Dean sighed. “Well, gee. Thanks, Cas. Scare her off.”

To his surprise, Summer only shook her head. “No. After what I’ve gone through, I feel like I could believe anything. Maybe the experience has just made my gullible, I don’t know. But I’ll accept ‘angel’.”

Dean turned back to Castiel. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said underneath his breath.

“Question?” Castiel furrowed his brow.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Cas, question. Did this have anything to do with you being cast from Heaven?”

The angel’s features relaxed, and he shook his head. “No,” he said. “This is an entirely separate matter.”

“Okay, so not only did Heaven clip your wings, you’ve got demons on your ass. This couldn’t get any better.”

“Actually, Dean, I’m fairly sure it could-”

“Sarcasm, Cas. Sarcasm.” Dean turned back to face Summer. “So you want us to drop you off anywhere? Believe it or not, we do have cars.”

Summer nodded. “Yeah, I could use a ride. God, my family is probably panicking. I don’t even know how long I’ve been gone. Time is messed up when you’re possessed.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. We were headin’ back to the motel anyway, before we were attacked. Cas, you can-”

He turned to face Castiel. The angel was hunched over, hands on his knees. He looked as if he were shaking.

“Hey, we all good over there, Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel muttered something unintelligible.

“Gonna need you to speak up, man.”

There was a nod from Castiel, before he slowly began to rise. “I am weaker than I thought,” he said. “My powers are not optimal currently, that much I was aware. I didn’t realize…”

“That ganking three demons consecutively, with your _bare hand_ , would have any effect on you?” Dean said.

“I did not ‘gank’ them, Dean, I _smote_ them,” Castiel corrected, an edge of frustration finally surfacing in his voice. “And yes, I knew it would have an effect on me. I just did not know it would be this intense.”

Castiel didn’t speak on their walk back to the Drive On Motel.

“So, demons,” Summer said, looking up at Dean. “Do you guys kill them often? Is this regular thing for you?”

Dean shook his head. “Not for me. Guess I’m new to the whole thing, technically. Doesn’t feel like it, though.”

“Well, why not?”

Dean smiled, a warm sensation building in his chest. “I spent most of my childhood hearing about supernatural lore from my Uncle Bobby. My brother Sammy and I would visit him every few months, and he’d always have somethin’ planned.”

“Nostalgic childhood memory, huh?” Summer said with a toothy grin.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. Pretty damn nostalgic.”

They reached the motel quickly. Maybe it just felt quickly to Dean. Talking to Summer had been a weight off of his shoulders.

Castiel hung in the back, looking at the ground as he walked. 

Dean threw open the door to his and Castiel’s room. “I’ll take the floor. Assuming Summer’s stayin’ overnight.”

Summer shook her head, stepping inside. “I don’t think I have any other option than to stay overnight, but it’s okay. I’ll take the floor.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Hey, cut the chivalry, okay? I said I’ll take the floor.”

Summer took the floor.

Castiel offered to get a spare blanket and pillow from the front desk. While he was gone, Dean quickly changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. He emerged from the bathroom just as Castiel was stepping through the door.

Dean walked over to his bed as Castiel approached Summer. The hunter began to rummage through the pockets of his jacket and pants, making sure to gather everything he’d stored there. Wallet, keys, cell phone, phone charger. He began to head toward the outlet beneath the nightstand, phone in hand, intending to plug in the device. Then it began to vibrate in his hand.

Curiously, Dean peered down at the screen. His heart skipped a beat instantly.

“Hey, uh, guys. I gotta take a private phone call. I’ll be outside.”

“But, Dean, it’s cold. You’ll-”

Dean wasn’t able to hear the rest of what Castiel was saying.

He swallowed hard before answering his cell.

“Hey, Bobby.” Dean tried to sound casual. Relaxed. In part because he didn’t want to worry his surrogate uncle, but also in part because he wanted to prove the other man wrong. He _could_ handle this, and he had.

The line was silent for a moment.

“Boy, don’t go soundin’ like everything’s just peachy keen.”

“All I said was-”

“I know what you said. But I didn’t hear a lick of worry in your voice. Concern. Don’t you feel a thing, Dean? Has what’s going on still not sunk in?”

Dean huffed. “Okay, Bobby. Maybe I was a little too enthusiastic earlier today. But trust me, I’m not anymore.” He chuckled weakly.

“Huntin’ not all you thought it was cracked up to be?”

Dean shook his head. “No, that’s not really the problem. Listen, I’m not gonna lie, okay? The ghost hunt earlier was one of the best things to ever happened to me. It felt so _right_. Like I was destined for it or somethin’.”

“Boy, you weren’t destined for nothin’. But I’m not even gonna touch that with a ten foot pole for now. Be honest with me. What got rid of the enthusiasm for ya?” Bobby asked.

Dean swallowed. “Listen, you’re probably not going to believe a word of this. But it happened, I swear to god.”

“I don’t have all day.”

Dean couldn’t help but crack a smile. “So, ah, I went on a walk with Castiel. We… we ran into a few demons.”

“How many demons?” Bobby’s voice was level.

“Four,” Dean responded.

“How’d you-”

“I’m getting to that, I swear. I exorcised one of ‘em. Cas told me to go into the woods along the street. Don’t know why, but I did it. Like I said, just one of the demons followed me. I got done exorcising her, then I realized I’d left three demons with Cas. So I panicked and ran back to out to the road.”

“Okay,” Bobby said. “I’m guessin’ this is where it gets weird?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah, pretty much. So I get out there, see Cas killing one of the demons with his bare hand. The two others are just layin’ there, as good as gone. Guy looks freakin’ terrified when I confront him. Guess what he says? That he’s an angel, Bobby. A goddamn angel. I… I still don’t know what I think. I don’t wanna believe him, ‘cause it doesn’t make any damn sense. Unless you were holdin’ out on me as a kid,” he said, speaking quickly.

Bobby didn’t respond immediately.

“Bobby, you gotta believe me.”

“And you’re not still with that ‘angel’, are you?”

Dean sighed, leaning back against the motel door. “Actually, I am. He’s like a fucking lost puppy, man. And I trust him. I mean, part of me trusts him. Honestly don’t know why. I’m losing it, Bobby.”

“Sure as hell you’re losin’ it,” Bobby muttered. “Dean, you gotta get that thing outta there. I don’t know what it is, killing demons with its bare hand, and that’s hardly a good sign. Listen, I may be saying this because some part of me has gone non compos mentis, but I’m willing to at least accept that you’re hunting. It’s mostly my fault, anyway. But that’s not gonna last if you act like a goddamn careless idjit.”

Dean looked down and huffed. “Yeah, Bobby. You’re… you’re right. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Watch your back for me, boy.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, Bobby. I can do that.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Dean hung up and promptly slid down the door, until he was sitting on concrete. He put his head in his hands, the cold hitting him for the first time since he’d stepped out.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting outside the motel for. Dean could gauge that it had been a while considering his goosebumps and shivering body. He pulled the door open, letting out another sigh.

Summer appeared to be asleep on the floor. Castiel, however, sat cross-legged on the far bed. His eyes were closed.

“Cas?”

The angel’s eyes flew open before he hopped off the bed. He walked quickly, weaving around the sleeping woman, until he stood just before Dean. “Did your private phone call go well?”

Dean put on a half-smile. Okay, he liked Castiel. The guy was growing on him.

Even if he’d lied to Dean.

“Cas, we need to talk.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is starting to give me anxiety, ahah. so many plot holes, i'm sorry. i'm not the best at updating a story as i write it. okay, that's probably enough negativity. i hope i'm not turning anyone off from the fic! if i am, tell me to stop (and be less self-deprecating). anyway, i hope you all enjoy this chapter!

“I don’t understand, Dean.”

The pair of hunters sat on the edge of Castiel’s bed, speaking softly.

“I’m sorry, Cas. But at our first opportunity, we’re gonna have to part ways.” Dean didn’t understand why he was being so gentle with Castiel. The angel had lied to him about pretty major details. Dean wanted to be angry, wanted to hold a grudge, but he just couldn’t find the energy to do it.

Castiel nodded, although Dean could see a contradiction hidden behind his wide blue eyes. _Shit, this would be a lot easier if he’d quit pulling the whole “lost puppy” thing._ “I suppose that makes sense. You cannot trust me. I understand why. You don’t want to put yourself at risk. Is that correct?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.”

Castiel nodded again. “I am willing to accept that. Are you going to bed soon?”

Dean took a moment to reorient himself at the sudden change in subject. “Probably,” he said.

“Have you called your mother yet?”

Now Dean was the wide-eyed one. “What? Why?”

Castiel looked down for a second or two. “You said before that you were considering calling her. Maybe she could help you work through this… situation?”

Dean laughed, barely quiet enough to avoid waking Summer. “Dude, she doesn’t even know any of this is _real_. And somethin’ tells me she’s not gonna keep her cool like Sammy did. She’s just… she’s my mom, y’know?”

Castiel shook his head. “Actually, I wouldn’t know, as I have never had a mother. But I still think that you should call her.”

“Right now?”

“Right now, Dean.”

Dean nodded. He hesitated. “Is this ‘cause you want her to talk Bobby out of what he said? So that you can stay?” He eyed Castiel curiously.

The angel was silent.

“Okay, I’ll take that as a yes. Just warning you now, man, it’s not gonna work. My mom is probably going to want you gone ten times as much as Bobby does.”

Castiel shrugged. “There is no harm in trying. I do not have anyone else to support me. Maybe your mother… maybe she’ll understand that I can protect you. That without me, you will only be at greater risk of-”

“Okay, don’t need you to list off every horrible thing that could happen to me. Fine, I’ll call her. But it’s not gonna blow over in your favour, man. I’m sorry, but it isn’t.”

Castiel looked down again and muttered, “Please, just call your mother.”

Dean couldn’t help but experience a moment of sympathy for Castiel. He was that desperate to stay with Dean. The poor guy just didn’t want to be alone.

Even if he was some kind of (still unconfirmed) supernatural creature.

Naturally, Dean decided to continue pushing away the fact that he was starting to buy all of Castiel’s “angel” crap. Bobby couldn’t possibly have known everything, right? If he didn’t know what Castiel was, who’s to say he _wasn’t_ some kind of holy-ass angel?

_Bobby was right. You’re losing it._

Dean huffed a sigh as he stood up and took a few steps forward, sitting on his own bed. He plucked his phone from the nightstand, staring blankly at the surface for a few seconds.

He punched in his parent’s home phone number, holding his breath as he did. Dean still wasn’t entirely certain why he was listening to Castiel. Maybe it had nothing to do with the angel. Maybe he just knew that it was time to be honest with his mom. Even if that time was just past midnight.

The phone rang six times before someone picked up.

“Dean, what the hell?”

John.

“Um, hey, dad,” Dean said.

John sighed. “Dean, I don’t know if you knew, but it’s past midnight.”

Dean let out a weak chuckle. “I know. It’s-”

“This better be an emergency.”

“Actually, it sorta is,” Dean said. “But I need to talk to Mom.”

“I’m not waking up your mother until I’m sure I have to,” John muttered.

_Fuck._

“Listen, Dad, I swear I’ll tell you what’s going on. Just not now. I really need to talk to Mom first.”

John let out another sigh. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. You talk to Mary, she let’s me know how much of an ‘emergency’ it was later. If you fall short, I get Bobby to kick your ass for me. Got it?”

“Awesome. Thanks, Dad. I owe you one.”

“You sure do. Just give me a second.”

Dean nodded to himself and, for the first time, focused in on Castiel. The angel sat across from him, perfectly still.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” On instinct, Dean smiled at the sound of his mother’s voice. Of course, his expression quickly fell when he remembered the task at hand.

“Honestly? I don’t know how to answer that. Things are sorta a mess right now, Mom.”

“Are you with Bobby?” Mary asked, urgency singeing her voice.

Dean hesitated. “No, not right now.”

“Why not?”

“Before I get to that,” Dean said slowly. “I gotta tell you something else. Uh, give you some background.”

“Go on, darling.”

Dean closed his eyes, shielding himself from Castiel’s concerned stare. He didn’t open them as he spoke. “This is gonna sound crazy as all hell, but the lore Bobby would tell me as a kid is real. Don’t know how much of it is real, but in general… it’s real, Mom.”

The line was silent for a moment. Dean opened his eyes.

“And where are you now, Dean?” Mary said. Her tone was perfectly flat. Totally controlled.

This, of course, terrified Dean.

“I’m… I’m at some motel in Iowa.”

“And what are you doing there?”

Dean swallowed. Part of him wished Castiel would look away, yet another part found the gaze comforting.

“I ran into a guy. Actually, I ran into a vampire first. Managed to gank the thing, and the guy - um, Castiel - offered to take me along.” _Is she seriously just gonna run with this?_

“Along where?”

“On a hunt. A haunting in Iowa. I already said the Iowa part, didn’t I?” Dean wanted to say more, to further assure Mary that what he was saying was true, but the words were caught in his throat.

The line went silent again. The hunter waited for his mother to speak.

Until he heard sobbing noises.

“Mom? Are you okay? Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I-”

“Bobby insisted… h- he promised he wouldn’t let this happen. Bastard, I should’ve known.”

Dean’s mouth hung open as he gathered his thoughts. “Wouldn’t let what happen, Mom?” he said, speaking as gently as he was capable.

“L- let you become a hunter. He was selfish. That’s the o- only reason you grew up on all of those _stories_. He couldn’t let go of hunting. But he _promised_. He promised that he wouldn’t let you get into that l- life. Why the hell did I believe him? You never showed an interest in becoming a hunter a- as a kid, I would have never thought..."

The room around Dean was spinning. “Woah, woah, Mom. Slow down. What’s going on? So you know about hunting too?”

Mary took a moment, and Dean could hear sniveling in the background. She sighed. “Yes, Dean, I am more than familiar with hunting.”

“Okay, first off, I am so fu- so sorry. I know I should be more sympathetic right now, and I’m probably being a lousy son, but I just gotta ask you one question. Why did Bobby tell you about hunting?”

Mary laughed, causing Dean to look at Castiel’s face. His features were surprisingly gentle, and Dean began to wonder if he could hear both sides of the conversation.

“Dean,” Mary said after she’d cooled down. Her voice was shaking. “Bobby didn’t need to tell me anything.”

Dean froze. “What do you mean?”

“My family… your grandparents, they raised me as a hunter.”

That’s when Dean’s entire world, everything he’d known, seemed to fall to pieces around him.

“W- what?” Dean managed to sputter.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Mary said. “I just wanted you to live a normal life.”

“Then why did you let Bobby stuff all of that lore down my throat? ‘Cause that wasn’t exactly the best start of a normal life.”

Mary sighed, taking another moment to speak. “I felt bad for him, honestly. He said that he just wanted something to do with you boys when we visited, aside from throwing a football around. Something to bond over. And his books were all he had. His stories. It started… it started the first time we visited. You were two, so I doubt you remember, but Bobby decided to tell you a ‘story’. This was just weeks after him and John met at that ridiculous car show. It’s also when I learned that Bobby had been a hunter in his youth. I wanted to pull you away and never come back, but I also wanted to see John with a friend. And Bobby said… he said that he would guarantee with his heart and soul that you wouldn’t grow up to be hunters. That he would present the lore to you as total fiction.”

“Which he did, Mom,” Dean said softly. “This was my decision. Bobby was angry as all hell when he learned I wanted to start hunting, trust me. If you’re gonna get angry at anyone, get angry at me.”

There was a pause.

“This isn’t your fault, Dean. But I guess it isn’t entirely Bobby’s either. He was just… too attached to the past. Like I said, he couldn’t let go. He didn’t intend for you to become a hunter.” Mary chuckled. “Honestly? Putting it like that, I still sound a bit like I’m blaming Bobby. Maybe a large part of me still wants to. But let’s just settle on the idea that this was no one’s doing, okay? That should make things a bit easier. Less chaotic, at least.”

Dean nodded, smiling faintly. “Yeah. That sounds good.” He hesitated. “Hey, actually, there was somethin’ else I needed to talk to you about. Sorta my partner’s request.”

“Hm? Really? Well, I’ll go with it. What was your partner wondering?” Dean couldn’t help but pick up on the hint of suspicion in Mary’s voice.

“Well, I called Bobby earlier. He pretty much wants me to dump the guy,” Dean said.

Mary hummed. “And why is that?”

“My partner… first, let me just tell you, he’d helped me a lot. Probably saved my ass at one point. That’s in his defense.” _I swear to god, I’m only defending him because I can’t hunt alone._

“And what’s _not_ in his defense?” Mary asked.

Dean swallowed. “There is one… problem.”

“Honey, you can tell me. I promise, I won’t overreact.”

“The guy’s not human,” Dean said quickly.

“Okay then,” Mary said. Dean was floored by the calmness of her voice. “What is he? Vampire, werewolf?”

Dean sighed. “No, neither. First of all, I should probably tell you. We don’t know if he’s tellin’ the truth or not.”

Dean looked up at Castiel, unsure how long he’d been staring at the carpet. The angel had fallen back on an unreadable expression.

“And what does he claim to be?”

“An angel,” Dean said, massaging his forehead.

Mary was silent for a moment. “And do you believe him?”

Dean huffed. “To tell you the truth? I do more than I don’t. Bobby’s already told me: I’m losing it.” As he spoke, Dean could see Castiel’s features visibly brighten.

“Okay,” Mary said. “To tell _you_ the truth, I’ve never even heard of the existence of angels. Dean, I’m not sure how safe it is for you to trust him. I’m sorry to diverge, but I can’t help but feel compelled to ask something. How do you know for sure that this partner of yours isn’t human? Has he shown any signs?”

Dean laughed gently. “Oh yeah, he’s shown signs. Caught him ‘smiting’ a demon with his bare hand.”

“Well that’s certainly something.”

There was another pause.

“I don’t want to control you. But I do want to be a voice of reason. Trusting this… ‘angel’ is more than likely far from safe. Okay, hell, Dean, I don’t think it’s safe at all. In addition, we wouldn’t even know if angels _were_ trustworthy. We just wouldn’t know. All the same, I will let you make up your mind for yourself. As much as it defies my motherly instincts,” Mary said, finishing with a delicate chuckle.

Castiel was frowning slightly, now.

Dean smiled. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll take that into consideration. I guess… I guess that’s all I needed to tell you.”

“Well then, take care, honey. No matter the circumstances, it was very nice talking to you.”

“Yeah. Nice talking to you too, Mom. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you too. Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean glanced at Castiel. He was looking toward the floor.

“Hey, man, I-”

“Can I stay, Dean?” Castiel interrupted, gaze flying up.

The room was quiet, aside from Summer’s light snoring.

Dean held his breath for a moment, mulling over his words carefully. “Cas,” he said. “I still don’t think I can say for sure.”

Cas’s slight smile fell. “But you said that you believed me.”

Dean shook his head. “I said I do more than I don’t, man. Nothing is confirmed. Let’s just sleep on it, okay?”

“I don’t sleep, Dean.”

“Well, okay. Then lets sit and stare at a wall on it. Is that what you did when I took that nap earlier?” Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Essentially, yes,” Castiel replied.

“Okay, then. ‘Night, Cas.”

It took Dean a while to fall to sleep that night. In part due to his generous nap, but mainly the result of his conversations with Bobby and Mary.

They were on the road by seven o’ clock the next morning. Summer provided the address of her home in Sargent, Nebraska. Castiel drove separately, making sure to show his car to Dean beforehand.

“See, Dean, I have a car.” Castiel gestured toward the vehicle.

Dean chuckled. “What is that, some kinda pimpmobile?”

Castiel frowned.

About three hours into the drive to Sargent, Summer and Dean hadn’t spoken of anything aside from the occasional “You holding up?”. The GPS spat out significantly more dialogue than the two of them combined. Dean was surprised by how quiet Summer had suddenly grown, considering how talkative she’d been the night previous. Still, the hunter didn’t question it.

Four hours in, Dean’s phone died.

“Shit,” he muttered. “We probably gotta find some place with maps. Cas uses maps. Then again, the guy probably is pretty old.”

Summer shook her head. “No, actually, I know where we are. I have for like, the past half hour. I can give directions.”

Dean let out a sigh. “Awesome. How far away are we, roughly?”

“Probably less than an hour.”

“Also awesome. How long do we keep on this road?” Dean asked.

Summer hummed. “About five more miles, maybe? I’ll tell you when to turn.”

Dean nodded. “Sounds good.”

Back to silence.

“Hey,” Summer said after about half a mile. “Can I suggest something?”

“Suggest something? Um, sure. Shoot.”

Summer was looking away from Dean as she spoke. “Keep Castiel.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “What? How did you know about that?”

“You guys woke me up pretty quickly when you were talking last night. I didn’t hear much of the phonecall, of course, but Castiel made the situation obvious.”

“Well, if I’m gonna be honest with you, I was already planning on keeping him,” Dean said.

Summer looked over to Dean. “Really? I thought I was going to have to give you some sort of lecture.”

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet, aside from Summer’s directions. Dean used the time to mull over some thoughts. He was holding onto Castiel, right? Was that the best decision? _Fuck it, I don’t even care._

“And my house is on the right.”

Drawn out of his thoughts, Dean nodded and pulled up along the curb. Summer sat still for moment.

"Thanks again," the woman said. "Really. You saved me. Hey, if you want somewhere to hang out while you're here, I think I know somewhere you'd like.”

Dean cocked a grin. “Is that so? What sorta place are we talking?”

“It’s called the Roadhouse. I don’t know, just seems like your type of place. I could give you directions, if you’d like,” Summer said.

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Why not. It’s some kinda bar?”

“Yeah. It’s only about three miles from here, so I thought you’d be down.”

“I guess, yeah, totally,” Dean said. “Why the hell not?”

Summer quickly provided Dean with simple directions. As she was doing so, a certain pimpmobile pulled up behind them.

“Thanks,” Dean said. “You got any family to greet inside?”

Summer shook her head. “No. I live alone. I _will_ be calling my family though. Now that’s going to be a surprise.”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, I’m sure it will be. You good?”

“Yeah, I think I am. Goodbye, I guess.”

“Yeah, bye,” Dean said with a grin.

Summer hopped out of the Impala, and Dean watched her as she approached her front door. Just before she reached for the door handle, the redhead turned around and threw Dean a quick wave. He waved back.

Summer stepped inside.

Dean had looked away for just a moment, he swore, when he heard a rapping on his window. He jumped in his seat before turning to confront the noise. Castiel stood there, hunched over with a small frown on his face. Dean rolled down the window.

“Jesus, Cas, don’t sneak up on me from behind like that,” he said.

“Dean, technically I didn’t-”

“It doesn’t matter, nevermind. Hey, Summer suggested this bar that’d apparently be a good place for us to hang out for a while. You up for that?” Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Castiel hesitated. “I suppose so, yes. I still need to find a motel in the area, so I suppose that that would be a good place to ask around.”

Dean smiled. “Awesome. She gave me directions. Just try to follow me, okay?”

Castiel nodded, before returning to his car.

As Summer had guaranteed, the drive was short and sweet. Castiel pulled up just beside Dean a moment later.

Dean peered up at the sign at the front of the bar. “Harvelle’s Roadhouse,” it read.

He stepped out of Baby and waited for Castiel. The angel strode beside him.

“Would you like to go in?” Castiel asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, sure.”


End file.
